Dr. Isiah Friedlander: Your son, James. He's a good kid?
Michael De Santa: He's a good kid? A good kid? Why? Does he help the fucking poor? No. He sits on his ass all day, smoking dope and jerking off while he plays that fucking game. If that's our standard for goodness... then no wonder this country's screwed.

I am a top-of-the-line model with an efficiency rating that makes Mr. Handy look like a glorified toaster oven.

We all need friends, old timer. We die alone, but we live among men.

Good news. I figured what that thing you just incinerated did. It was a morality core they installed after I flooded the Enrichment Center with a deadly neurotoxin, to make me stop flooding the Enrichment Center with a deadly neurotoxin. So get comfortable while I warm up the neurotoxin emitters.

V: Doesn't it bother you?
Ozob: What?
V: The grenade. You know, the one on your face?
Ozob: Eh, you get used to it. I just gotta be carefull not to pull the pin when I wanna pick my nose.